


the wiggler

by evanelric



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Boot Worship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 20:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10171640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanelric/pseuds/evanelric
Summary: A recruit makes amends to her commander.





	

**Author's Note:**

> unbetaed. in media res. originally written October 21, 2016.
> 
> I wash my hands of this.

The recruit edges forward on hands and knees, stopping just before the Commander with her palms flat against the floor. Her eyes dart up as far as his chest, then drop back down to his feet. She leans in and presses the flat of her tongue against the tip of his right boot, slowly moving from side to side. A second pass, pressing the tip of her tongue into the join between plates. The third runs up the center of the plate to his ankle.

Keeping her hands in place she leans back and moves in again, long swipes to either side until the metal gleams. She rocks forward just a little, tilting her head to swirl her tongue into the joint between ankle and calf, following the curve from right to left.

Her breath is coming shorter now, and her chest is tight, a mix of shame and arousal commonly felt when under the scrutiny of Commander Reyes, but never so intense.

At the end of the curve she follows the joint down and around, then all the way up the side of his calf to his knee, stopping just before she tastes the fabric of his pantleg. She sinks on her hands again, tongue catching the bottom of the plate and flowing up, over and over until all she can taste is metal and dirt and the dim lighting in the wiggler gleams back at her from the Commander’s boot.

His wide stance affords her the room she needs to circle from his shin to the inside of his calf before she rocks back to work her tongue between the joins of his knee, carefully tracing the indents and sliding her tongue up until the boot ends on his thigh. Her face is hot, but she can still feel the heat of the Commander’s leg radiating through his pants as she licks along the edges of the knee, the flavor of leather cutting in when she reaches the straps holding the boots in place.

She rolls her tongue around her mouth before beginning on his left boot, shame forgotten in the face of earning the Commander’s forgiveness. She follows the same methodical path- over the toe, up the foot, up the calf, over the knee. When she finishes she’s out of breath as if she’d just done 2 hours on the mats, and sweat has beaded on her brow, causing stray hairs to stick to the skin there.


End file.
